


We Go Together, Friends, Or Not at All

by General_Lee



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gameplay Based, Path is a good boy, Shadowfall (Apex Legends)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Lee/pseuds/General_Lee
Summary: 1000% based on an unbelievable game I had last night.





	We Go Together, Friends, Or Not at All

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute bit of stuff.

My creator would be so disappointed.

Despite the constant rotation of matches, nearly a week had passed without my having reached the evacuation ship. It was a matter of timing, really. Arrive at the evac point too soon and one would be swarmed. Too late and my longest grapple fell short of the ship’s hull. Any of this assumed that I’d live to the final battle, which I often hadn’t.

Other Legends were always hazardous, but now – _seasonal promotion_, the Syndicate called it – we faced a horde of the fallen as well. I tried my best. I did. Even when my life extinguished, I returned and continued to fight. There was a surprising amount of perverse pleasure to be had at destroying those on the opposing side, slashing with increased strength and ferocity, chasing red markers to their doom.

But even my most righteous vengeance felt hollow without someone to witness it. The setting was lonely. I don’t think I was built to stand alone. I would do my best, though. Things could be worse. There could be birds.

Another match, another pitch-black drop. A plume of blue smoke trailed behind me as I landed at an off-site location near the Pit. After a mad dash for supplies, I found myself in possession of basic armor, an Alternator and a Hemlock. Not my first or second choice, but I felt little desire to fire upon the living. To fight other frightened Legends felt wrong, sending my moral compass spinning out of control. Something sizzled inside my CPU at that thought, some part of my defective core activated.

My monitor frowned. I should not be scared. I can do this. I believe that I can. And I believe that I do not have to injure others to do it. The shadows would come regardless, and there would be blood enough for all.

A red dot arced through the sky above, a specter on the hunt. My location was too open, my being a clear target on an open sea of desert. I needed cover. Bunker loomed in the distance, still within the first ring and promising the safety of high, reinforced walls to hide my heat signature. Inside… well, I’d have to see what awaited me. My legs clanked as I took a direct path towards shelter, coils of zipline bouncing in my upper back.

Sharp clangs filled my sensors as bullets tore into my shoulder. I looked to one side, legs still in motion. Ragged fabric whipped the air as Wraith chased me, her tiny frame fearlessly firing at me. Maintaining stride, I shook my head, a stern warning that her actions would not be tolerated, then faced forward. Instantly, the firing stopped.

As my metal feet traded sand for concrete, light footsteps echoed mine. Wraith now raced beside me, ally instead of enemy. The massive hydraulic doors to Bunker opened and we ducked inside. The doors banged shut, sealing us in dim emergency lighting of the structure.

Haphazardly, I ran the length of the halls and darted down the stairs. This was Bunker, surely there would be –

Nox gas sprayed my face, filling the hall with chartreuse fumes. I grappled the ceiling and swung away from the damaging vapor as Wraith phased through the danger. Dropping to the lower corridor, I popped some quick aid. Wraith took a defensible position at the location’s rear, aiming towards the heavy back door as I tempted fortune. Peering through one of Bunker’s observation windows, I found who I was looking for.

Caustic tossed another barrel, barring the door, once again locking himself in a small room with no way out. “Hello, friend!” I said, cheerily dancing before the window. “I may need your assistance.”

It was amazing how prevalent a scowl could be while a man’s face was mostly covered. The returning jig Caustic gave me was rife with mockery and caution. He did not open the door.

I had to wonder if upon landing he’d run directly into a defensible room, _any_ defensible room, and immediately claimed it as his best shot. Such activity stank of terror, a shocking act for the cold, detached scientist. But Caustic’s fear was understandable – the sensation of being ripped apart in a single blow certainly was unpleasant.

Though I didn’t have much to spare, I upended an entire stack of light ammunition in front of the window. “Would this help?” I asked, trying to coax him out, showing that I meant no harm.

The Nox barrel collapsed and the door opened. Swiftly, Caustic scooped up the ammo and ran upstairs, grabbing a set of armor from one of the larger rooms. Ah. So, he hadn’t taken the time to scout Bunker. Interesting. And a little sad.

The announcement of full ring closure sounded, and I accessed my mini map. The next ring would close around Runoff. It was foolish to think we’d be safe here for long. We had to go. As if the voices had warned her, Wraith appeared at my side. Together, we joined Caustic up top and gazed out the slightly warped glass of Bunker’s front door. Red trails fell from the sky like rain, promising horror the moment we left. 

Despite new rules, I had been conditioned to work as part of a team. As I saw it, Wraith, Caustic and I were one unit. If they wished to hunker down and fight instead of run, I would do my part to support them. “We go together, friends, or not at all.”

Wraith’s eyes hardened and she uttered, “Let do it.” Though Caustic remained mute, he clenched his fists and inclined his head in a nod. The Bunker doors opened wide.

I grappled to the top of the entry railing, choosing to ignore the survey beacon. A pause like that could cost my life, all our lives. Pressure built inside my arm as I searched for the furthest place my zipline would land. The line shot out, mooring at Oasis, further than I’d dared hope it would reach. I leapt, hoping the others were close behind. 

As I began sailing toward the other side of the map, I turned. A swarm of shadows descended on Bunker as Caustic grabbed the line. Silhouetted by moonlight, Wraith stood atop the entry, caught in the shadow’s midst. Her gun was out and busy, shadows disintegrating into clouds of red dust and she lay waste to them. “Just go!” she cried. The phantoms rushed her, attention focused while Caustic and I escaped. Her scream carried across the desert. A symbol of pure white wings unfolded as our angel died.

Fourteen Legends remained.

The line ended and Caustic and I tumbled into dirt. We made a mad dash for a drainage pipe half submerged in the ground, me aiming my grapple at the ground to soar over rocks. Once inside, Caustic rushed back and forth, blocking each entry with his barrels. I had to step carefully. The safeties hadn’t been turned off and he could very easily cause my accidental death.

The ring closed, wall of orange burning the center of my zipline. I checked the map. The next zone circled Runoff. Optimism blossomed and my monitor grinned.

Short lived. Shadows prodded the drain, temporarily held at bay by the Nox. Each time a shadow died it was a beacon for the rest. We couldn’t stay long.

I crept to the mouth of the pipe, sensors on high alert. Faint, beyond the howling of the shadows and the low hum of the ring, I heard something else. Electricity crackled and hissed on the second floor of a building above us. “With me,” I told Caustic.

“Very well.”

He was so agreeable today. What a delightful bit of luck.

We sneaked out of the pipe, clinging to the crumbling retaining wall until close enough to make a run. Easily recalling the layout of the structure, I tore up a stairway and rushed towards the building’s midsection. “Hello?” I called. “We’re here.”

For the second time that match, a series of bullets struck me. I jumped back on reflex. On the other side of a glowing red perimeter fence, Wattson aimed her gun at me, the light giving her face a demonic glow.

How unfortunate for me to be killed now. It was her right though, should she choose, as twelve Legends remained.

At my back, a huffing Caustic reached the top of the stairs. Perhaps it was the sight of the two of us clearly in cahoots that held Wattson’s fire. But cease she did, and opened her gate for us. It snapped back into place the moment we hustled inside. A deep web of gates blocked each entry point and a pylon whirled in a corner, flashing white and blue over the three of us. Caustic hurried about, tossing barrels to bolster defense.

Good. We were a three-man team again. I found it comforting. Out a narrow window, I saw a ring of landing lights indicating where the evac ship would dock. I could easily shoot a zipline to the landing site, providing a path for the three of us.

Ten Legends lived. The game shifted.

A rush of shadows stormed Runoff, sizzling as they touched the fences or activated the Nox. Now or never, I leaned onto the support below the window, watching the cord of my zip unravel, the grapple sinking deeply into the ground within the landing circle. My monitor switched from neutral to a smile. “Friends!” I called, turning my head. “We can –”

A flash of black swooped into view and a heavy blow hit me in the side, knocking me against the window frame. My optic unit filled with a red hue. I tried to stand but couldn’t. Oh, no. No…

I’d been so close to succeeding. Another failure, another loss. Surely, I’d be scrapped soon, placed on a junkpile planet with other malfunctioning MRVNs. And my creator… I would never find him. Why would he even bother to look for me, disappointment that I am?

I though of Wraith, who’d fought to the death, buying Caustic and I time to flee. How rude of me to die after her sacrifice. Staring blankly at the floor, my fading senses filled with the wails of shadows and the roar of the docking evac ship that I would never reach.

My metal body scraped the floor as I was hauled backwards, back inside Wattson’s fences. My circuits fired at full force, stunning my system. My optics rehomed to find Caustic over me, holding a shock needle to my chest. I stared dumbly at him as Wattson fired a staccato of shots, covering us while I recharged. When he offered me his hand, I gladly took it.

In a matter of moments, the ship would leave. I found my feet, nodded a _thank you_ to Caustic and shouted, “Now!” to Wattson. Disregarding my low health, we sprinted for my zipline, leaping for it one-by-one.

Next I knew, we were cramped aboard the evac ship in a small cabin, the doors closing around us. Wattson dropped her gun and slumped to the floor as Caustic leaned against the galley wall, breathing heavily. It took me several second to fully compute what had happened. We were the only survivors.

I found myself almost giddy. I’d done it and had taken no lives in the process. My creator was certain to seek me out now. I was a just and good MRVN and worthy of praise.

I held my hand aloft. “High five?”


End file.
